This is a "found poem" the lines are from poems ranging from 13th century to the 20th century*
I have fears that I may cease to be, And that I shall never look upon thee more. Had we but world enough, and time I would voice aloud a love, A love so much refined, Even ourselves know not what it is.
But we have given our hearts away So I have chosen thus to fling My soul upon the growing gloom. Of all the western stars, until I die
Though I must go, endure not yet. For I shall love thee better after death,
As for me, alas, I may no more But while old time is still a-flying T’s not too late for you to seek a newer world, No nearer to Death’s dream kingdom, For the world which seems To lie before us like a land of dreams Has not yet attained its noon.